


catch a tiger by the tail

by wintervioleteye (hawkguyed)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bastian you silly tiger, Gen, How do I tag without spoilering everyone, Jim is a dick, M/M, Season 3 Spoilers, Spoilers, hello did you miss me?, mormor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 15:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkguyed/pseuds/wintervioleteye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3 EPISODE 3.</p><p>"Hello, Sebby. Did you miss me?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	catch a tiger by the tail

**Author's Note:**

> Basically written after I watched episode 3 of Sherlock season 3. First Sherlock fic I've written oh god I should stop writing at 1am in the morning yeah?

Sebastian Moran pauses mid-drink when the bloody telly starts going absolutely batshit crazy, repeating four words over and over. The ruckus around him swiftly dies down, and that's how he gauges the importance of actually looking up to see what had gotten the small crowd so spooked. 

He registers the image on the telly a little later than he'd like (your game is slipping, and Sebastian tries not to think of Jim's sing-song voice), and it shocks him. The face is one he'd never expected to see, the face of a dead man on the screen surprises him enough that he lets the glass slip from his fingers, shattering on the counter and onto the floor. Months he'd spent thinking the bastard was dead, and now, this. 

Obviously, Jim fucking Moriarty could never stay dead. 

Sebastian slams down a fist, ignoring the one shard of glass that scores across the back of his hand. For so long, there had been silence. When he first heard of a body at St. Barts, he had thought it was a joke. Then it had escalated. Texts to his boss' phone going unanswered, calls never picked up. Nothing. Just silence. 

A body matching Jim's description being found. 

Jim's empire being slowly but systematically dismantled. 

For so long, Sebastian had finally gotten used to the notion of no-one being there to give him the order to pull the trigger, and now, Jim Moriarty has crawled back out of the grave to haunt him again. 

He should have known better. "Damnit, Jim." 

There's a creak of a door hinge, and a muffled gasp. Unimportant enough that Sebastian doesn't take his eyes off the image of his boss' face on the telly. 

"Tsk, tiger. You really thought I was dead. I'm disappointed." 

Sebastian turns. Shifts so quickly in his chair it's a miracle he doesn't get whiplash. He doesn't know what he expects to see, after all what he expects had already been turned on its head by Jim's little video trick. 

Standing in front of him, arms spread just slightly with the madcap Cheshire grin on his face, just the way Sebastian remembers, is Jim Moriarty. Everything about him is the same, perfectly tailored Westwood and polished Italian leather shoes, his hair slicked back neatly. Just as Sebastian remembers. 

He stares. It takes a moment for him to register that Jim is really standing in front of him, but that passes quickly. It also helps that Jim has somehow procured a bag of his belongings (mostly guns and porn magazines), things which were in the dingy apartment he'd been living out of, and tossed it straight at Sebastian. 

The bag is easily caught, its contents rattling. Finally, the tiger has woken up from slumber, he thinks, hefting his bag over his shoulder. 

"Boss." 

Jim's grin widens.

"Hello, Sebby. Did you miss me?"


End file.
